


James Potter, Arrogant Tosser

by JannaElizabeth93



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 01:37:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11590314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JannaElizabeth93/pseuds/JannaElizabeth93
Summary: James Potter, Arrogant Tosser, missed a few days of class in December 1976.





	James Potter, Arrogant Tosser

It was bollocks, absolute bollocks, that NEWT students had winter exams in addition to the actual NEWT exams in the spring.

 

It was also bollocks, Lily thought, fuming, that they were all in one week. At least the actual NEWTs were spread out, for Christ’s sake! But no -- McGonagall and Slughorn and the lot of them had just decided that they’d pack them all into the last week of classes before the Christmas holidays! And it was only their sixth year! They weren't even taking the NEWTs until next year!

 

To say nothing of the partner project she had to finish for Herbology -- Professor Sprout had paired her with James Potter, arrogant tosser, and James had already finished his part. “I’ll be gone for a few days around December third,” he had told her, shoving his glasses back into place on the bridge of his nose. “It’s Eid -- the end of Ramadan -- and I’m gonna go home for a couple of days. My mum likes that.”

 

And he had of course finished it, and done an exemplary job, and Lily had her own incomplete portion staring her in the face. Arse.

 

As if she didn’t have things to do! To worry about! “First of all,” Lily muttered to herself as she slipped out of the side door that she and Mary had found last year right before the OWL exams, drawing her cloak about herself against the frigid night air, “there are these bloody doubled prefect patrols. Twice a week! Twice a week they have us out in the corridors instead of doing our bloody homework.” Her breath rose before her in angry, crystalline puffs as she headed for the dormant blackberry bushes that lined the north wall of the castle. In the distance, she could just barely see the light of the full moon glinting off the Quidditch pitch.

 

But slowly, as she traversed the snow-covered grounds, the anger cooled, morphed into something else. She knew the reason for the increased patrols, of course. They all did. She had clutched at Remus’s hand while the Gryffindor prefects had stood in McGonagall’s office and listened solemnly to her explanation that, as the war raged on around them, they would all have to grow up a little faster.

 

Remus had wrapped his arms around her while she cried once they had left McGonagall’s office. Lily hoped he didn't remember that. 

 

She curled her arms tight around her middle beneath her heavy cloak, wishing she had worn a hat. She stared up at the moon where it hung, gleaming and round, in the inky black sky. Sirius lived with James now. Neither of them really talked about it, but the version of the story that Lily had heard from Remus on patrols made it seem like Sirius had been disowned for being what his parents called a blood traitor. Sirius had gone straight to James and his parents, Remus had said, and had stayed there for the rest of the summer. 

 

Lily shivered and kept walking. 

 

And there were the duels, now. There had been duels in the corridors last year, of course, but nothing like… nothing like this. Nothing like Volturnus Flint screaming the word “Mudblood” at Brian Cunningham right before trying to cast a curse that would slash his face to ribbons. And McGonagall could have them double patrols in the corridors to watch for external threats all she wanted, Lily thought, but that wouldn't do anything about the hatred that was creeping through the castle like a virus.

 

Lily felt the tips of her toes begin to go numb in her boots, but she didn’t turn back for the castle. She tugged at her left glove, trying to cover a small exposed sliver of her wrist, as she wandered in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, trying to give the Whomping Willow a wide berth. She would turn back to the castle soon, she promised herself. She just… needed a minute. 

 

And then in two weeks she would be back home, in her parents’ house, and her dad would sit her down in the parlor like he always did, and they would chat for hours and hours, because he would want to know all about Hogwarts, and she would have to edit her stories even more than she usually did, because the last thing she wanted was for her parents to know she was in the middle of a war, now… 

 

And Petunia would ignore her, she was sure. Lily didn't know what had happened, what the latest change in their slowly deteriorating relationship was, but Petunia had stopped answering her letters entirely this year. Lily had written their mother to ask if Petunia was all right, and Rose had ignored the question in her reply.

 

Which was how Lily had found herself walking alone through the snow-covered grounds under the light of the full moon. She just needed a minute. She would get back to work later, she really would. She just. She needed a minute.

 

A low and distant wolf’s howl pierced the silence. Lily paused and looked to her left, down the gently sloping grounds to the Forbidden Forest. She hoped the wolf was with its pack -- she hated to think of it out there alone.

 

She exhaled hard, her breath fogging around her again. She should have gone the other way, she thought idly, and maybe sat by the frozen lake for a moment… there was still time, she reasoned; she could turn around and find her way back that direction --

 

Movement at the forest’s edge caught her eye, and she stopped again, squinting into the shadows. There was… a large animal of some kind standing at the forest’s edge, and Lily almost thought it was staring at her. The animal shifted, and the light from the full moon caught a pair of wide, strong antlers, covered in snow. 

 

“Oh, hello,” she whispered, taking a step towards the stag. “Aren’t you cold out here?”

 

But before she could take another step, the stag’s ears perked up, and it began to trot towards her its eyes fixed on her. She hesitated, unsure if she should be afraid or not.

 

The stag stopped about five feet away from her, and huffed a breath out of its nostrils. Its head nodded, the antlers swaying, and if Lily hadn’t known any better, she would have thought it was trying to motion her back towards the castle. 

 

“Can I help you?” she laughed nervously, frantically searching her recollection for any randomly acquired information about whether stags were violent, and coming up empty. She didn’t dare move, unsure if it would charge her.

 

The stag huffed again, almost impatiently, and tilted its head at her as if wondering what exactly she was doing. It took half a step forward and nodded its head again. 

 

“D’you… d’you want me to move?” Lily asked, keeping her voice as low and quiet as she could so as not to startle it, and then half a second later snorting in frustration. “Right, Lily. Talking to it as if it can understand you, but trying to be non-threatening about it.”

 

With no warning, the stag reared up on its hind legs and bayed. Lily, startled, stumbled backwards and almost fell as the stag trotted forward another few paces. Heart pounding, Lily scrambled upright and held her hands up in front of her face. “All right! All right, I’m going! Jeez, did I stumble into your mating territory or something?”

 

The stag stilled but kept glaring at her as she wrapped herself tighter in her cloak and walked quickly away, retracing her own footprints in the snow back to the castle. She didn’t look left or right the entire distance, but as she stumbled the last few steps to the door, she glanced back over her shoulder, squinting in the darkness.

 

The stag was standing right where she had left it, antlers gleaming gently in the light of the full moon. It almost seemed to be watching her, making sure that she got herself all the way back into the castle.

 

Even halfway back into the warmth as she was, Lily felt a shiver slide down her spine. She gave the stag one last long, searching look before crossing the threshold. As she let the door fall shut behind her, she thought she heard the wolf howl in the distance again.

 

* * *

 

 

James was back a few days later, just in time for the two of them to present their project to the Herbology class. He was more patient than Lily thought she deserved with her less-than-stellar work -- “we’ve all got a lot going on, Evans, don’t worry about it” -- and not for the first time since September did Lily wonder where the real James Potter, arrogant tosser, was, and when he would make his unfortunate return. 

 

Lily honestly couldn’t say how she had done on any of her exams, or if she had even taken all of them. Before she knew it, she was standing on a frosty platform at the Hogsmeade Station, waiting with Mary and Marlene, in the midst of a chattering crowd, an unfamiliar knot in her stomach at the thought of going home and seeing her sister again. 

 

It felt like she blinked and the ride was over, and Marlene was hustling her off the train. Lily shook herself and joined Remus for the run at the wall and out into Muggle King’s Cross. 

 

“Lily! Lily, sweetheart, over here!” 

 

She turned, smiling her relief, as she spotted her mum dancing in place, one hand waving wildly above her head while the other clutched at the strap of her handbag. With a sigh, Lily rushed to her mother and fell into Rose’s soft embrace. She inhaled deeply, the vanilla perfume that drifted through all her childhood memories strong in her nose. Unexpectedly, she felt her eyes prickle with tears. She had missed her mum. She had really, really missed her mum.

 

“Oh, sweetheart. Welcome home. Happy Christmas!”

 

“Happy Christmas,” Lily whispered in return, allowing herself to be pushed back just enough that Rose could inspect her face. As Rose tutted and ran her hand over Lily’s forehead to push some of the red hair from her daughter’s face, Lily took the opportunity to look -- really look -- at her mother too. Had those lines always been around Rose’s mouth?

 

“Oy -- Lily!” she heard someone shout from behind her, and she turned without unlinking her arm from her mother’s. 

 

“Oh, who’s  _ that? _ ” Rose whispered in delight as James Potter loped towards the two of them. Before Lily could collect herself enough to emerge from her shock over James’s use of her first name to answer, though, James had come to a halt in front of the two of them, running a hand through his hair.

 

He grinned at Rose. “Hi -- you must be Petunia? Lily’s sister?”

 

Lily gave an ugly snort of unexpected laughter, but Rose tittered prettily, and Lily was astonished to see a blush color her mother’s cheeks. “Oh, you. Lily, you never mentioned that you had such charming friends!”

 

“Oh my God,” Lily muttered, rolling her eyes at James but unable to summon any real anger. “Mum, this is James Potter. James, this is my mother, Rose.”

 

“Ah, I see,” said James, extending a hand to Rose, who took it with another giggle. “That’s where--”

 

“Potter, if you say that’s where I got it from, I swear--” Lily could not stop herself from laughing, however hard she tried.

 

“Lily!” her mother scolded. “Don’t be rude! You certainly didn’t get your looks from your father, after all.”

 

“I’m telling him you said that.”

 

“Oh, he knows,” Rose sniffed as she straightened the beanie that was slipping down Lily’s head.

 

James chuckled, looking quite pleased with himself. “Anyway, Lily, I don’t want to keep you too long, but my parents say I can have some people over for dinner or something the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Probably the twenty-eighth or twenty-ninth. You game?”

 

“Oh!” Lily couldn’t hide her surprise. She glanced over James’s shoulder and saw Sirius watching expectantly, waiting with a beautiful woman with James’s same coffee-colored skin, in an intricately-patterned sheer scarf large enough to wrap around her whole body. Beside them both was a man who looked too much like James to be anyone but his father. As Lily watched, the man ran his own hand through his hair in a familiar gesture. “Oh -- er, yeah. I’d love to.”

 

James grinned brightly and shot a triumphant glance over his shoulder, holding up a thumbs-up gesture that Sirius returned. “Perfect,” said James, turning back to Lily and her mother. “I’ll send you an owl once we’ve figured out the exact day, yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” responded Lily, feeling her own smile brighten. “I’ll… I’ll see you then? Let me know if you need me to bring anything.”

 

“Actually, now that you mention it,” said James, lowering his voice as his expression shifted to something more serious, “it’s Sirius’s first winter break with us, and we don’t -- you know -- celebrate Christmas. Like my mum is doing what she can -- there’s a tree in the drawing room, I think -- but if there are any… I don’t know… traditional cakes or pies or… or anything…” 

 

“Oh!” squeaked Lily again, before it occurred to her that she shouldn’t be at all surprised that James and his family were so fully committed to becoming a home for Sirius. “Er -- yeah --” she turned to Rose. “Mum, could you help me make a Christmas pudding? I could probably manage a mulled apple tart by myself.”

 

“Of course, sweetheart,” said Rose warmly. “We’ll stop at the grocery on our way home, shall we?”

 

Lily nodded and turned back to James, smiling once more. She was doing that a lot around him, lately.

 

“Perfect.” James ran his hand through his hair again. “I’ll… I’ll see you soon, then?”

 

“Yeah,” said Lily, and James grinned at her one more time before turning and striding back to his family with an easy grace that didn’t look anywhere nearly as performative as it had two years ago.

 

Lily reached for the the trolley bearing her trunk and let her mother lead her towards the doors of King’s Cross. “Thanks, Mum. We don’t have to go today…”

 

“Oh, we may as well,” said Rose airily, linking her arm with Lily’s again. “I’d hate to try to get my hands on a can of molasses the day after Christmas, wouldn’t you? Now, why don’t you tell me how you think your exams went?”

 

* * *

 

Petunia was being  _ courted _ . 

 

“He’s got to be the dullest creature to ever walk God’s green earth,” Lily’s father grumbled over his cup of mulled wine as the two of them sat in front of the fire in the parlor after dinner. “Works for a drill company doing something I don’t care about. Has a horrible sister who deliberately breeds malformed bulldogs -- you know, the ones with the bulging eyes and breathing problems.”

 

“What does she see in him?” Lily asked quietly, tucking her legs up under her and leaning into the arm of the sofa. 

 

There was a long, pregnant pause before her father answered, and he didn’t look at her as he thought it over. Finally, staring into the fire, he said, “I asked her once. She said it was that he was so normal. No surprises.”

 

“Oh,” Lily whispered, feeling a lump of coal settle into her stomach, stealing all her interest in the mulled cider in her hands. 

 

The comfortable silence between them evaporated, replaced by something heavy, awkward. With a muttered excuse, Lily sent her mug down and went up to bed. 

 

Petunia didn’t speak more than two words to Lily that holiday, even on Christmas morning. Lily had been so caught up in her despondency over the final deterioration of this, what had once been the most important relationship in her life, that she had almost forgotten James Potter’s invitation. But when her mother asked her over dinner the day after Christmas when Lily would need the kitchen to make the cakes, Lily almost gasped in relief. A reason to get out of the house. She shouldn’t have been so grateful for a reason to get out of the house, at Christmas, and yet here she was.

 

The Potter family’s manor in the countryside of Devon was a picturesque scene of snowfall, the house looking almost like gingerbread with spun sugar windows lit from within. James met her at the door with a quick, customary “Hey, Evans” and took her cloak, hanging it up before leading her into the drawing room. She felt the glow from the fire in the hearth wash over her like a warm bath.

 

“Lily!” Sirius shouted from where he was draped over an armchair near the fire. He bounded upright and brushed past James to pull her into a bear hug. “Told you she’d come,” he tossed over his shoulder to Remus, who had also risen to embrace her. 

 

“I didn’t argue with you,” laughed Remus, releasing Lily. He looked good, Lily noted, the pallor that so often graced his dark skin due to his vague and undefined illness gone for once. 

 

“Hi, everyone,” said Lily, fighting a ridiculous urge to blush as James flopped into a window seat, stretching his arms above his head so that his jumper rode up, exposing just a sliver of the narrow trail of hair on his abdomen. To distract herself, Lily held up the two trays of puddings in her hands. “James, can I just set these…” 

 

“Oh -- yeah. Here’s fine.” James nodded to the low table in the center of the room. Gently, Lily set down the two trays and unwrapped them before taking a seat on a sofa between Peter and Marlene. 

 

She took a moment to look around. The room was cozy despite its size, papered with a lovely red and gold pattern along the walls. Snow frosted the outside of the windows, and the portraits of dignified-looking men in kaftans and beautiful women in saris looked down benignly on James and his gathering of friends. There, beside the fireplace, was a small but carefully decorated Christmas tree, and from the mantelpiece beside it hung a pair of clearly handmade stockings, one bearing Sirius’s name, the other James’s.

 

Sirius slid from his seat near the fire again and shuffled on his knees over to the table where Lily had set her cakes. “My God, Evans. What did you make?”

 

Lily pointed. “That one there is a traditional Christmas pudding. Some dried berries, apples, and orange in that. And this one here --” she shifted “--is a mulled apple tart. It’s mostly just cider and cinnamon, but if you don’t like it, it’s because I made it on my own. The pudding my mum helped with.”

 

“They smell amazing,” said Mary from her seat on a fine brocade ottoman while Sirius continued to examine the cakes, delighted. “James, can we get some plates in here, or what?”

 

“You’re so bossy,” James whined dramatically, but with a quick wink at Lily he stood and loped out of the room. Lily didn’t realize how obvious it was that she was watching him go until she turned back to the room and Remus caught her eye. He raised his eyebrows at her and she blushed, quickly facing Peter.

 

“How’s your holiday been, Pete?” 

 

Peter grinned and launched into a story about his mum burning the Christmas turkey, only to be interrupted a moment later by James bounding back into the room, the woman from the King’s Cross  platform whom Lily had guessed was his mother following him, shaking her head at his antics.

 

“Plates!” James announced, setting them down beside the cakes and eyeing the pudding in a sort of wary fascination. “Lily, Sirius, I hope one of you knows how to cut this round thing.”

 

“It’s not that hard,” scoffed Sirius, standing and going to James’s mother. “Thanks, Auntie,” he said, kissing her cheek and taking the pie knife from her. 

 

“Of course, bittu,” Mrs. Potter said warmly before seating herself among them, carefully redraping her dupata. “Now, which of you made these for us?”

 

“Er -- me,” muttered Lily, raising her hand, suddenly shy. It mattered to her for reasons she didn’t want to think too deeply about that James’s mother not hate her. 

 

“Well they smell lovely, dear,” said Mrs. Potter kindly. “Would you mind if I had some?”

 

“Oh! N-no, not at all,” Lily stammered, doing her best to avoid looking at James. Marlene, doing a terrible job of stifling a giggle, dug her elbow into Lily’s side.

 

“Thank you,” Mrs. Potter smiled, watching Sirius as he carefully cut into the pudding and lifted a slice onto a plate, which he then handed to her along with a spoon. As she took it, she added, sighing dramatically, “Eid just passed, you know. Only one of the most important holidays in Islam. And my son couldn’t make time for his poor mother, so I suppose I just have to celebrate with his friends, embarrass him in front of you all for the brief time I do have him.”  But her affectionate smile at James took any of the heat from her words, and James groaned loudly and ducked as she made to pinch his cheek.

 

But Lily was frowning. James had missed class for two days in early December, she remembered perfectly clearly -- he had said that Eid was on December third, and he was going home, and that was why he had to finish his portion of their Herbology project early. He had said that, she was absolutely sure. But here was his mother teasing him about not coming home for the holiday.

 

“And it’s not as if he had a hard time planning this,” Mrs. Potter continued. “Ramadan is so predictable -- it lasts exactly one lunar cycle, every year, and Eid is always on the full moon to end it.” 

 

“All right, Ammi,” said James, a flush blooming beneath his golden skin. “I said I’m sorry. I’ll do better next year.”

 

“Bittu, I’m teasing,” Mrs. Potter laughed. “You told me that one of your friends was ill. I understand.”

 

“Yeah. Right. Moving on.” James rubbed the back of his neck, flustered. “Will Abba be home soon? I thought the Wizengamot was in recess anyway.”

 

Lily didn’t hear the answer to the question; she was too busy thinking. James had missed class around Eid, which apparently always fell on a full moon. But he hadn’t been home, and had told his mother that one of his friends was ill. 

 

She had taken Astronomy through the OWL level, just as they all had. And she -- and Severus, before he had thrown in his lot with Mulciber and the rest of them who had chosen to support this terrifying figure calling himself a Lord -- had had her suspicions about the schedule that Remus’s illness seemed to follow. 

 

Slowly, trying not to draw attention to herself, she shot a furtive glance at Remus. Her breath caught in her throat. He seemed to have gone still, his face set as he stared fixedly into the fire, ignoring the conversation going on around him. 

 

“Well I for one,” said Sirius loudly, drawing the attention of everyone in the room to himself, “think this pudding is amazing, Lils. Can I call you Lils?”

 

“When have you ever been allowed to call me Lils?” Lily asked, distracted. Mary and Marlene laughed, but she barely heard it. 

 

On the full moon, James had missed class, saying he was going home. But he had apparently told his mother that he wasn’t going home because a friend was sick. 

 

She had been out on the grounds that night, Lily abruptly remembered. She had looked up at the full moon. She had…. She had wandered towards the sound of a wolf howling, only to be stopped by a stag that had frightened her back into the castle. 

 

Lily now looked over at James, who now seemed to be studiously avoiding her eyes. 

 

“Really, Lily,” said Sirius hastily, moving around the table so that he was sitting directly in front of her, pudding-laden plate in hand. “You’ll have to teach me how you make this. It’s amazing.”

 

Snapping out of it, Lily forced herself to focus on him. “Thanks. I’ll let my mum know. She did most of the work.”

 

Mrs. Potter laughed and stood, taking her plate with her. “Thank you for bringing it, Lily. I do appreciate it.” She reached out to ruffle her son’s hair. “I shall leave you all to it, then.” She started for the door, only to turn on the threshold with a mischievous smile that looked quite familiar. “But should you need any entertainment, I have some baby photos--”

 

“Ammi!” groaned James. “Come on! I don’t embarrass you in front of your friends!” He jerked his chin towards the door, and Mrs. Potter, still laughing, waved and took her leave of them.

 

But something about the way James had nodded towards the door, urging his mother out, was familiar, Lily knew it. She had seen it before, she was sure.

 

_ The stag stopped about five feet away from her, and huffed a breath out of its nostrils. Its head nodded, the antlers swaying, and if Lily hadn’t known any better, she would have thought it was trying to motion her back towards the castle.  _

 

The stag. The stag, with the snow on its antlers gleaming in the light of the full moon. 

 

Lily knew, from a lesson in her third year Defense Against the Dark Arts class, that werewolves were only a threat to humans. And they had just come from a Transfiguration on Animagi, where Professor McGonagall had demonstrated her transformation for them, so Marlene had raised her hand and asked Professor Epstein if humans in Animagus form would be safe from a werewolf. The answer had been yes.

 

“Oh,” Lily gasped, so quietly that nobody but Marlene heard her. Marlene glanced over at her, eyebrows raised as if to ask ‘what?’

 

But James looked up at her too, and met her eyes. He stared at her, more intense than she had ever seen him, and he shook his head once, almost imperceptibly. 

 

Lily, eyes wide, mouth open, felt her heart pounding. 

 

It was entirely possible that James Potter, arrogant tosser, had mastered magic that wizards twice his age found impossible, so he could comfort Remus through a werewolf transformation.

 

James Potter, arrogant tosser, had rearranged his religious holidays and his school schedules and his life and his body, so as to help his friend.

 

“ _ What _ ?” Marlene asked Lily, impatient now.

 

But Lily was still staring at James, who gazed back, serious. She exhaled, quietly, deliberately. She couldn’t tell anyone, of course she couldn’t. But James had done this for Remus. Lily couldn’t picture, could barely even imagine, what he had gone through. For Remus. For his friend. 

 

Slowly, Lily turned back to Marlene. “Nothing. I just… I’d just really like to see those baby photos, is all. Wouldn’t you?”

 

“Brilliant idea!” exclaimed Sirius, and Lily had almost forgotten that he was there, sitting at her feet. He bounded up and made for the door, tossing over his shoulder, “Good thing your mum loves me more than you, Potter!” 

 

“Piss off!” James shouted after him as Peter chuckled. James collapsed back into his seat, glaring at Lily with his usual casual humor, no trace of the intensity from mere moments earlier. “Hope you’re happy with yourself, Evans.”

 

Lily hid a smile behind a forkful of pudding, feeling her heart rate return to normal. “I am, yeah. Smarter than you, remember?”

 

James snorted. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to get through the day.”

 

But when Sirius came back, triumphantly holding a photo album above his head and demanding that they all gather round him, Lily found herself curling up beside James, their shoulders brushing. And rather than teasing her, or complaining loudly of his space being invaded, he shifted so that she would be more comfortable. 

 

She shot him one last glance out of the corner of her eye, and he tentatively grinned at her, for just a moment looking almost vulnerable. Lily shrugged, smiling softly, and leaned over Sirius’s shoulder the better to see a photo of a red-faced baby with a shock of black hair, apparently wailing at the top of his lungs and waving his fists in the air. 

 

Mary crowed with laughter. “Looks like some things never change, Potter.”

 

But Lily looked back at James, who was enduring the laughter at his expense better than she had thought he would. “Maybe they do,” she whispered. 


End file.
